


for fortunes not truth

by fated_addiction



Category: Korean Drama, 최고의 결혼 | The Greatest Marriage (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Her mother calls</i>. Ki Young navigates. And poorly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for fortunes not truth

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many complicated feelings about _The Greatest Marriage_. I hate everybody and no one and am literally on the edge of my chair by the end of each episode because everyone has issues. And terrifying mother-in-laws.

Her mother calls.

"Eat well," she doesn't coax, although there is a quiver in her voice when she asks: "Is it healthy?"

Ki Young closes her eyes. Her apartment is silent. 815 puckers and snores by her bed. She listens to her mother sigh. A pot on the other line closes. It sounds clumsy and honest. 

"Yes," she says, "I have a son." 

 

-

 

There is a particular edge in the guilt that comes when she hears of the miscarriage. Social circles are always too small. She cannot remember who tells her, or why they tell her; panic is panic and as ridiculous as the contract (is it really though, half-stained with coffee rings) may be, Ki Young doesn't trust grief. Or families that only know how to have everything.

She does not see Myung Yi though. Instead she will pass Tae Yeon coming and going, in the elevator, downstairs and between walks. She is careful bringing 815 with her when she needs to. Maybe she's worried. He says nothing to her though. Or is waiting to say something to her. She doesn't know; she doesn't trust her instincts either. She leaves that for work.

Then she comes back late. The nanny is waiting.

"I heard they're trying to push you out," he says pleasantly, at the elevator, and pleasantly enough (she knows better) because finally they're alone. Or finally he's decided to focus on her again.

Her blazer is too crisp. The elevator is too slow. Her eyes follow the floor numbers.

"Of course, you would know," she murmurs. "He is your father after all."

"Parent of the year," he agrees.

The door opens. He lets her go first. Or she finds her feet first. They are on par sometimes. Sometimes she will lie to herself and miss that. If he were anyone else, she would ask about Myung Yi.

They stand side by side. His hands fold in front of his jacket.

"What will you do?"

Her lips curl. It feels a little strange.

"What I always do," she says. Her shoulders lift. She rubs the back of her neck, clutching her bag. 815 will be hungry in another hour. "Manage," she tells him. "Work hard," she says too. "The only things I really know how to do. Stay fighting."

He sighs. "Stay fighting." 

They are quiet again.

She thinks things like _legal action_ and who of her fans are lawyers and who owes what favor to her and why. Briefly, there is Sunbae but that seems different and distant to her.

His hand hits the stop button.

She blinks out of her thoughts, startled. Her hand juts out, hitting the wall as the elevator shuffles into an abrupt stop. There's a sound and she realizes it's her, and her mouth, as she looks up at him, wide-eyed.

"What --"

"I'm lost," he confesses, and her heart is pounding.

He doesn't touch her. His hands curl into fists. He looks helpless; she's almost sorry. She thinks _my son_ and leaves it at that.

"That's on you," she says quietly.

He doesn't look at her either. "I know," he says, and then shuffles back. "I _know_. I can't help but think if I had been more ... more of a _husband_ this would have never happened. I see her like this and she looks honest, less like -- I forgot that she was human too."

The shame is there. Ki Young feels her throat burn. She thinks _my son_ again and feels herself swear, up and down and up and down again that she will not let these things happen. She will be a good parent. She will be the best she can be. She will not turn her son into this.

"I'm sorry," she offers, or tries to offer, and it sounds a little trite, a little too honest, but it's the best she can do. She can almost hear Yun Hee-unnie in her head. _You're just too close_.

The most terrifying part is easy. Her fingers twists and she steps to the floor buttons first.

She knows the truth. She could have loved him too.

The elevator starts to move again.

 

-

 

There are days where she thinks she's a terrible parent, that she feels like at terrible parent and it eats and eats away at her, right under the sharp, shrill sounds of 815 and his cries. She carries lumps in her throat and the circles under her eyes are even deeper. He's just _hungry_ , the nanny soothes but she's only been hired to care for 815 and not his mother. There are times where the panic just gets to be _too much_ and she's crying, right over 815, even when he's settled down, nestled in her arms and at her breasts because he wanted was to be close, not with a stranger.

"I can't not work," she says. Then she pleads: "I can't not _work_."

But babies are babies, and time is so little; the reality is even worse and rationally, she can pull it apart and put it back together.

She misses her mother the most.

 

-

 

Sunbae is always the last person she expects. 

Jo Eun Cha is not a nice man, not even the brightest, or the fastest. He is calculating, of course, self-serving, even more so, and inspires a bizarre sense of loyalty even though you may hate his guts, or want to flay him, or just want see him fail. He shows up for her, which she doesn't understand it; then again, neither does he.

He fits in her kitchen. He frowns at her apron. She bites her lip and watches him. 815 has gone to sleep, tucked quietly by her bed. 

"We can just order in," she says finally, gently, and he looks up, flushing. His eyes dart around. He sighs. Then his shoulder slump.

"Good," he mutters. "Because I was just going to start drinking."

She laughs.

She finds the emergency drawer next to him. He watches her. Her hip brushes into his and she pulls out the takeout menus. There's other junk -- scissors, rubber bands, a few extra caps for formula.

"You pick," she says, and he grabs the menus from her, muttering something about the _news_ and no Indian food, since he hates Indian food, and everyone remembers that one time. He stands close to her. He's always stood close to her and sometimes it's out of need, more times it's because he has to, but he's always been the most honest with her.

He calls, of course. He's the _man_. He makes some comment about 815 and how _well, duh, he will learn what a man is_ and she keeps her replies to herself. Be compassionate, she will tell her son. Be honest. Be hopeful. Give yourself the chance, she thinks.

But they sit and wait for the food. "American," he tells her. "Burgers are the safest for my stomach."

She turns her knees into him (accidentally) as they sit together (also accidentally) on her couch. The television is on low. They watch a story about a school and a teacher catching awards.

"Fluff," Eun Cha mutters.

She shrugs. "Filtering," she says. A good reporter knows filler is as filler does.

"True," he agrees. 

These are the pieces of her life, she thinks.

They don't talk though. She watches the commercials. She remembers _sponsorship_ and tries to ignore her next battle. People forget how frighteningly clear her mind is, most times.

A story about foreign policy comes on. You always watch your competition, they tell. She watches their colleagues on screen; there is no memory of their names. She's met the male anchor more than the female. Play it safely, he told her. Then he tried to buy her a drink.

Ki Young yawns though. Her eyes close. Eun Cha's hand touches her shoulder and she can't help but let a smile go.

"I'm fine," she says, and his fingers tremble but move. His thumb starts to sweep back and forth, dragging slowly down her arm and into her palm. Then it's his fingers again. They are uncertain; she thinks he's counting the lines in her skin. One, two. One, two.

"I'm not," he says, and Ki Young laughs.

She turns her head. He's watching her. His mouth drops into a slight, open frown.

"You've never made any sense to me," he tells her.

She shrugs.

"And I wonder," he says. He seems to get closer. She turns her hand into his fingers. He doesn't stop touching her. "And I wonder," he says again. "If there's a reason why."

"That was almost romantic," she teases.

He flushes and sighs. "Shut up."

She does not make anything of the way that he looks at her. 815 comes first, she tells herself, and then everything else will sort into place. She has to believe it that way, for her own sanity and what she has left. But he's there, still close, and his hands come up to frame her face. They push back into her hair and she feels her eyes start to water. She doesn't feel any shame in almost crying in front of him. They have always seen the worst in each other and that speaks volumes in itself.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs, and it's heavy, almost too heavy for him to say. The cushion they share starts to sink and he shifts his weight closer. Her knees press into his thigh and she closes her eyes.

His mouth touches her forehead. Her heart twists.

She wonders if she can keep up.

 

-

 

Ki Young calls her mother.

But hangs up.


End file.
